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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417581">hypnos</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolcemorte/pseuds/dolcemorte'>dolcemorte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gore, Nightmares, Remake Timeline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:06:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolcemorte/pseuds/dolcemorte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As Jill lies infected, she dreams of different possibilities.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Oliveira/Jill Valentine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hypnos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last thing Jill Valentine thinks, breathing raggedly and clutching the wound where the hulking B.O.W had struck her, was that it would be a damn shame to die here. After everything she had been through. To die in this damn city of the dead. Worse yet, all her nightmares of succumbing to the virus coming true.</p>
<p>Sadly that did nothing to drive away the encroaching dark. It took her anyways.</p>
<p>Everything feels wrong. Jill stands in the center of the city, the sky is a smeared orange. It's no longer night. She moves and it is like traversing a river of thick mud. No matter how hard she tries, her body is barely her own to control. Yet she cannot find words for the nameless terror in the back of her mind. A strange agony beneath her skin, like a burning, itching rot. Everything around her is fine. People mill around, their faces pass by in a blur. She could not focus on anyone in particular. There was a distant roaring, it seemed to be getting closer. </p>
<p>Suddenly, as if by magic, she's with Carlos again. At the subway, just the two of them. There should be more people here, but this feels right. His eyes reflect like mirrors, as if there was nothing behind them. The silence around them is oppressive, hanging like an invisible smog. She wants to speak to him, ask him what's going on, but the words are caught in her throat. Everything is out of control and Jill hates the sense of helplessness. </p>
<p>He leans in and they kiss, his teeth find her lips. They tear out her tongue, blood gushing down her throat, down their open throats. They're both rotting corpses now. She wants this, but isn't sure which part of it. A pulsating, fleshy tentacle rips through her torso, spraying gore onto the both of them. Jill slides down, her face resting in the blood-stained shirt of this mimicry Carlos. She wants to sob. This is all a dream, yet she cannot stop it. Cannot stop the burning, agonizing hell she is trapped in. </p>
<p>This might be death. This could be the hell of the nonliving, what every shambling corpse knows. This could be the '<i>real<i>' hell.</i></i></p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>The cross around her neck felt heavy. Jill Valentine isn't afraid of death. Her body, her flesh may lay far away from her, as she dreams. But she doesn't fear it. Only curses her own weakness. Death or a miracle would save her, could save her, if she even remembered. No sadness or fear, it's all swallowed up in the coming darkness. Only the faint taste of blood remains, or what can pass for it in a dream. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>It would be a blessing to forget.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I liked the concept of Jill's nightmare and the infection really messing with her mind. Felt the itch for a short little piece .</p></blockquote></div></div>
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